The Girl in the Dreamscape
by Miss 3cho Chan
Summary: Contact with souls from other world; a Ki ability passed down through generations of the Ouji family. Riddled with problems and hardships, the Ouji's have fought to keep the technique going in the years following the 'War of Ki's'. As the newest candidate to be taught this ability, Vegeta must work through the trials of the ability, in hopes of meeting a certain blue haired girl.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

This girl, she was beautiful. With pale blue curls running down the length of her face and neck; her bright, sea blue eyes hidden by more blue curled bangs, the young boy could envision her as nothing but an angel as she stood before him. However, her hair and eyes were the only things about her appearance that would normally be considered angelic. Her frightening, almost off white skin was flawed with blackened, spider-web like veins that were visible under the thin outer layers of her transparent flesh. Smooth, sweeping tendrils of white smoke rose from where her feet were positioned on the rocky floor of the unknown terrain upon which they were now situated. Her white shoes were cloaked in scuff marks and smudges from the earthy ground, the bottom of her lace dress and petticoat torn and ruffled; watery, muddy splashes adorning the front of the overalls in a random fashion.

A small, bitter smile graced her angelic features as she continued to gaze forward at him in the dreamscape. One of her petite hands elegantly lifted from her left side, fingers swaying as she waved at the other being. Taken aback by the gesture, the boy shifted from his normally upright posture, bringing his arms almost mechanically down to his sides, clenching and unclenching his fists as if to calm his rising nerves. Though the action seemed to do nothing but heighten the anxiety drastically. The air was stuffy, hot, and suffocating in his airway, as it must have been in hers, if she still held the ability to feel it. Through the numbing sensations that were slowly taking control of his body, he heard the scraping of rocks as the girl moved gracefully on her feet. Pallid, widespread fingers reached out into the thick, smoggy air as the girl shuffled forward. The smoke tendrils thinned as she slowly approached, and the boy took a cautionary step backwards at the notice of the shortened space between them.

The index finger of her left hand rose even higher as she came to a gradual halt in front of him, eyes almost twinkling with unknown anticipation. The breath caught in the young boy's throat as the icy fingers of the aqua eyed cherub touched his cheek tenderly, partially shaking as she stroked them down his cheek to rest at his sharp chin. Head tilted slightly to the right in pondering innocence, the young girl's smile widened a fraction as she moved her hand again, this time upward, to gently brush under the mysterious mister's right eye. Forcing out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, the boy's eyes widened fractionally as the girl's sharp fingernails dragged themselves across the tanned skin under his abyss like eyes. The thumb nail of the girl continued to drag itself across the boy's cheek, increasing in pressure until the fragile surface of the boy's body was breached; a thin line of dark, scarlet blood languidly dripping down his face, a speck of said blood seeping into the pressed collar of his white undershirt, streaking a line of crimson into the woven fabric.

A soft, whimper like sound clawed its way out of the small boy's throat, and the pressure of the girl's fingers increased simultaneously. The flesh underneath his eye was now marred with small, lined cuts that stopped halfway down his cheek. Pulsing pain shot down the right side of his neck, and his eyes squinted and blinked in retaliation to the unwanted ache. Controlling the pain to the best of his abilities, he slowly opened his eyes back up. Jumping backwards with a short yelp, his hands flung up to cover his face as he wrapped his head around the frightening display in front of his face. The girl was now a hairs width away, and was boring her dead eyes into his now stained cheek. The girl had lost all of her afore-mentioned angelic qualities, and now looked well and truly dead, almost ghostly in comparison. Her skin had sunk, hugging her bones which now creaked painfully with movement, and had taken on an ashen grey hue. Her hair had lost all its colour, now appearing white and wispy, and had flattened to the sides of her face; small knots and bumps tangling in the once bouncy blue locks. Her black veins were now crystal clear, running criss-cross patterns along her uncovered limbs, although he presumed the same would be apparent underneath her clothes as well. Though the one thing that unnerved him the most in her drastic change in appearance, was her eyes.

Her irises, now listless and dull, stared at him blankly; it was as if she was staring through him. She was hunched over, scratchy, throaty groaning sounds vibrating up her throat, escaping through her chapped, blue lips. Her body jerked sideways, and spasm-like shivering ran down the length of her frail body. But as soon as it had started, it stopped. She brought her body back upright, clawing her hands as she pulled her forearms up in front of her face. A flash of recognition sparked through her lifeless grey eyes as she eyed the dark crimson brandishing her left hand. Her actions now sluggish and slow, she pulled her hand further towards her face, close enough to smell the thick, coppery aroma with ease, had she had the ability to. Eyeing the blood at a closer distance, she opened her dry mouth warily; tongue poking out as she tentatively licked the scarlet stains from her cold fingertips.

Her eyes suddenly widened, dusky irises disappearing behind a cloudy white film that threatened to leak over her lower eyelids. A high pitched, almost animalistic shriek ripped its way out of her throat, reverberating around the seemingly empty layout of the dreamscape. Angled hands clawed madly at her throat, her head tossing back and forth in an almost fit-like fashion as she continued to scream. The shrill note of the girl sent waves of high-pitched ringing through the boy's overly sensitive ears, his heightened hearing proving to be a disadvantage in this current scenario. As a second, stronger pulse of pain ripped through the young mister's body, he felt all sense of attachment leave him as he stumbled backwards, arms flailing wildly at his sides as he tried to correct his balance. A lightheaded feeling caused his head to spin, and he fell silently backwards as he fought vainly for his control.

Everything went blank before he even hit the floor.


	2. Same as always

A scream echoed around the large, fortress like inner structure of the Ouji mansion. Vegeta no Ouji shot into a sitting position in his bed, black eyes wide and panicked; a thin sheen of sweat coating his shivering body. Bringing his shaking hands to his face, he fearfully rubbed the tips of his calloused fingers over the skin underneath his eyes. And, as always, there were no marks on his skin where the girl had left them. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax slightly, slumping back against his bed's headboard as he exhaled.

His tired, ebony eyes glanced around his room, blinking rapidly as he tried to rid his sight of the blurriness clouding his vision. Why was that girl always haunting him? Sure, he was used to seeing the unfamiliar when he went to sleep, but not this often. Normally, they'd have something to find, something of value to help them pass through to other world permanently, and the test itself, so to speak, would only last a few days at the most. But she was still here. This girl had been an infrequent 'guest' for almost two weeks, and she never came with a strict objective like most souls did. There was never anything consistent in her scape; no objects of interest or personal possessions, just a landscape, though they were different subtly each time. And as always, she was planted in the middle of the plane, in her usual white laced dress, with a matching white petticoat and white shoes.

His vision finally cleared, and he sluggishly pulled his hands down from the side of his face to rest at his sides. He didn't feel like sleeping anymore. His coal eyes focused on the picture frame, place centrally on his bedside table. His usual stoic demeanour shifted slightly; dark eyebrows pinching upwards slightly in a dulled remembrance of a long forgotten pain.

_Knock._

A single, hard knock upon his door shook him from his stupor, and he twisted his head towards where the noise had resonated. 'Probably one of the maids' he thought tiredly as he sank further back into his pillows, curling his tail into the underside of his duvet.

"You will answer me, boy."

He flinched at the sound of the booming voice in the hallway, dull recognition ringing in his ears from the loudness of the call. He inwardly groaned, rolling onto his side as he swung his legs over the side of his large bed. He pushed himself off the covers, feet tapping lightly against the cold tile flooring in his room, before he padded over to the doorframe. He latched onto the door handle, pulling the large wooden structure back with ease as he peered around the half-gap between the door and the co-joining wall.

He shoved the door open fully, albeit a little too hard, as it roughly collided with the wall, hinges creaking in protest to the force used. He straightened his posture, making sure to keep his head high on his shoulders as he looked into his father's stern, ebony eyes.

"What time is it, boy?" His father spoke with controlled anger, wavering on the borderline between the control he had at hand, and the lack thereof he would soon be acquainted with.

"3:47, Father." A stern, controlled answer, fit for the stern man that stood in front of him.

"Morning or evening, boy?" He was all but begging for a conflict. The fierce spark shining in his eyes was the only thing distinguishable behind his mask of complete control.

"It would be unwise to think of me as unintelligent, Father."

A harsh snap of Ki penetrated the air as the Elder Ouji glared white-hot daggers at his son, fists clenching at his sides in a desperate attempt to regain his control. His pupils became beady with anger, and bloodshot veins speared across the corners of his eyeballs, bleeding red into usually white corneas.

Vegeta scoffed, tilting his head slightly to one side in amusement at his father, though keeping his eyes trained completely on the elder in the hallway; like a hawk, as the Earth saying goes.

'These emotion games don't affect me any longer, Father. I have long since outgrown them'. The thought was a distant analysis in the back of his mind, behind the grogginess that came with being up in such early hours of the morning. Naturally, being born with both the wit of his Mother, and the cunning slyness of his Father, he was going to be an eligible contender when forced to battle in 'Staring contests' with his elders. And again, it was natural for him to feel the need to participate; he had things to prove, and backing down in front of others was not an option he would allow himself to take, even in petty games such as this.

'Even with that outgrowth, upholding my status in these games is still thoroughly enjoyable; don't you agree, Father?'

A glare to match his elder's own, portraying the same intensity as burning embers; embers which battled long and hard with his Fathers, forcing his eyebrows to dip low on his forehead, as if to touch the tip of his nose.

Huffing in his growing agitation, Vegeta Sr. turned his head away from his son, growling lowly in his throat as he did so. Shaking his head slightly, he turned back around, bringing his face uncomfortably close to Vegeta's, their noses tapping each other lightly.

"Wake up one more time, and I swear …"

The rest of the threat no longer needed to be said; the first part of the growled accusation having made enough sense by itself. Vegeta gulped, but kept glaring towards the back of his Father as he strode off down the hall. He inhaled deeply through his mouth and sighed, before turning back into his room.

'I told him not to push this hard, and then he blames ME for what happens…'

He growled loudly to himself, punching the wall nearest to his bed in anger. Withdrawing his fist, he looked at the small indent in the plaster, then to the cracks running through the paint coating outside the hole. One of the maids would come down here in three hours for the usual morning routine, and the hole and cracks would be gone by lunch.

Sighing yet again, he crawled in under his thick duvet and curled up inside it, pulling one of his pillows down inside the covers to lean against. The tip of his tail thumped softly against one of the wooden bed posts and he made no move to withdraw the limb from the open air to join him under the duvet. This was his room, after all, and he could sleep how he wanted.

_Knock knock._

Vegeta grunted to himself as another knock echoed through his room.

"What is it now, Father? I have done nothing more to pester you since your last visit."

Silence sounded behind the door for a few seconds, before a small voice called out to him.

"Big brother?"

'I should have known as much'. Poking his head out of a small gap in the curled duvet, Vegeta peered over at the door, as if expecting the visitor to open it and run inside. Which he usually did on nights like these, for a reason unknown to him.

"Tarble."

The door opened with a sharp squeak, the hinges still protesting from their earlier abuse. Said little brother then padded quietly over to the left side of Vegeta's bed, pausing at the bedside table. His eyes were now glued to the small hole and the cracks littering the wall.

"Big brother, what-"

"I punched the wall."

Slightly surprised at being cut off, Tarble turned to peer at his older sibling; seeing his brother's anger still clearly written over his face.

"Did Father-"

"Yeah…"

Turning back towards the hole, Tarble hesitantly brushed his fingertips across the fractured plaster, not failing to spot the specks of blood that tainted the light blue of the paint. He withdrew his hand and turned his head towards the floor, glaring at the tiles.

"Big brother, can I?"

Vegeta sighed again, causing his little brothers to turn his way, their eyes locking together for a few seconds before he responded.

"Like you always do?"

A small, playful smile lit up his brother's face, and he could feel the corners of his mouth upturn into a smirk of his own. Lifting up the edge of his cover, he waited patiently; or as patiently as he found possible, for his brother to crawl in under the gap and tangle himself around his big brothers waist, coiling his tail around one of his legs as the tip brushed gently against Vegeta's skin.

Nuzzling affectionately against Vegeta's chest, Tarble tilted his head up to look at his brother once more, sending him a warm smile before sighing in contentment; closing his eyes as he drifted off.

Folding protectively around his brothers sleeping form, Vegeta continued to peer down at him with an uncharacteristically soft look upon his face. Though it wasn't happy, it had definitely lost the ferocity of his earlier scowl. Pressing the front of his face into his little brothers thick, black hair, he sighed in agreed contentment as the little scamp he now protected. The next few hours would be spent thinking, mulling over his recurring dreams and sending occasional glances down towards his sibling. Tarble would continue to sleep peacefully, as always, unaware of his brother's torment for the time being. And Vegeta would continue to watch him.

Because he really didn't feel like sleeping anymore.


End file.
